Fates, Furies and Freckles(Watty Awards 2013)

τριακοστό τρίτο

                                                                  {Present Day}

                                                                  Point of View:

                                                   ++Pelops/Aaron++(Tantalus's Son)

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 I used to dream in gray. Not just one single color of gray, but different shades. Light, dark, muted. But no matter what shade it was, it was still gray. Never changing, never faltering. I would look down at my hands, and they would be light gray. Look in a mirror, and my eyes would be muted gray. Just gray gray gray.

It really unnerved me. I would wake up, disoriented, because all of a sudden, color existed. Flowers were yellow, and my eyes were green, and my blanket was blue. Gray was not the predominant color anymore- in fact it was rarely seen in real life.

I haven't had a gray colored dream in years. They quit one day, without warning. And haven't been back since.

Until now.

This time I'm not dreaming in gray, though. I'm not dreaming at all, though it feels like it. I know I'm not dreaming because I feel someone pick me up and put me on a strecher, and I can tell I'm being loaded into an ambulance.

I can feel the prick of the needle as they put something in my arm. I smell antiseptic, and it tickles the inside of my nose.

But everything is in gray. There's no colors. My arm is gray when I look down, as is the needle sticking out of it.

The EMT's face is gray, and so are his eyes.

And when I look over next to me, her fingers are gray too.

And I look down at my fingers, and they're the same shade.

The same shade of a color that shouldn't even be a color. 

I hear someone yell, "Clear!" and I hear people rushing around in the ambulance. 

I see someone look over at me and shake their head, gray eyes full of pity.

I look over at her fingers again and hook my pinky finger in hers. Cold. 

Someone yells over the noise, "Does anyone know what her name is?"

And I manage to squeeze out the words, "Dani Martin," as a tear slips through my lashes and hits the floor of the ambulance.

And I wonder if this is finally it. 

I wonder if you can put an immortal body through so much that it just shuts down and turns off. If that's possible, someone turned the ignition off. 

And I can't say I'm sad.

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Beep.

Beep.

Beep beep.

I open my eyes, blearily, to see colors again. It's shocking. But not as shocking as the fact that I'm still alive. I've never felt as dead as I did in that moment.